Dancing
by Halia Stone
Summary: It was a weird thing they had, but as weird as it was it was theirs. And who knew dancing with your supposed number-one enemy was such fun?


**This was actually inspired by an AU gifset I saw on tumblr a long time ago where Klaus wanted to dance with Damon at the 20s-decade dance (or it could've been prom, I don't really remember) It's just a weird little thing I created using all the canon moments of a dance that both Klaus and Damon were in the TVD universe/present for. Can be viewed as slash or pre-slash./**

**Although I almost forgot he was in the episode of the prom in season 4 (probably because I've been determined to erase as much Klaroline fanservice in my head as possible) but I think I made that scene work okay, especially since Klaus didn't turn up at that one (and rightfully so, since it would've been weird; at least Damon and Stefan were there to keep an eye on no-humanity Elena).**

**But anyway, enough rambling. I hope you all enjoy this chapter and will tell me your thoughts at the end. Credit for this idea goes to FancyPotatoFangirl, since she gave me the idea.**

* * *

Damon grimaced as he swallowed a mouthful of champagne. There wasn't any other alcohol in sight and frankly, it tasted like cat piss. As much as he would've loved to skip this little shindig, Elena was off trying to do something stupid and reckless that would most likely fuck over everyone within a ten-mile radius. _Again_.

Anyone here who believed Esther Mikaelson was genuinely here to make peace with her family was an idiot—especially those rare few that knew one of her own sons tore her heart out.

And speaking of the murderous son, out of the corner of his eye, Damon saw Klaus moving closer to the table he was leaning against.

"Why'd your mother decide to throw this thing again?" Damon asked, putting his champagne flute down and briefly looking at the aimless dancing guests.

"I have honestly no idea, nor burning desire to find out why," Klaus said with a shrug, "Although I do seem to find myself short of a partner and you're the only one not dancing," he pointed out, and true to his word, he was right.

Stefan and Elena were dancing together, Caroline and Matt had coupled up, Finn and Elijah were dancing with a pair of twins and Rebekah and Kol had decided to dance with each other being that nobody had asked them. Esther had even managed to rope a waiter into dancing with her.

"Care to join me?" he asked.

Damon was thankful he hadn't been in the midst of a drink otherwise he would've spat it everywhere in shock. As it was, he was tempted to do it just for dramatic effect. Why in the name of everything unholy did Klaus want to dance with _him?_ He was more than capable of threatening Matt away from Caroline if he was that desperate.

He waited another moment before responding, searching the hybrid's face for any sign of mockery. When he—surprisingly—didn't find any, he huffed out;

"Why the hell not?" and could've sworn on Stefan's un-life that he saw a brief smile on Klaus' face. "Although I've gotta warn you that it could hurt your nefarious reputation," he added seriously as he took the arm Klaus offered him.

(Guess he was gonna be the girl in this scenario then, huh?)

"Nefarious?" Klaus repeated with a bewildered sounding chuckle, "That's a big word for you, Damon," he added in mock-appraisal.

Straight-faced, Damon responded in a deadpan, "Thank Scrabble."

"But I assure you, my reputation would remain just as intact if I were seen holding your hand and giving you flowers," Klaus responded, Damon having to take a moment to process what he just said. So, the bastard had a sense of humor after all.

"Oh?" Damon said with a raised eyebrow, letting Klaus lead him to the dance floor, "Is that what I have to look forward to next?" he joked.

"Possibly, in an alternative universe," Klaus shot back, his surprisingly straight face making Damon burst out with a brief laugh.

Despite agreeing to it, he wasn't prepared for how weird dancing with Klaus would be. It wasn't even the fact they had to hold hands that was the weirdest—although how many people could probably say they held Klaus' hand?—it was the fact that he had picked _him_ to dance with. Damon was sure there were a couple of waitresses not dancing, yet he had chosen him.

Needless to say, it was a rare moment of peace that Damon—surprisingly—was enjoying; for the moment, Elena wasn't racing off to screw something up in a misguided attempt to preserve her morals and the hybrid he was currently dancing with, nor his family, wasn't trying to kill them all.

He found his eyes wandering over Klaus' shoulder—they weren't at the point where Damon could look into his eyes and not want to punch the seemingly ever-present smugness out of them—and landing on a couple that couldn't have been older than thirty perfectly waltzing with each other. Usually Damon would've seen some signs of inexperience; toe stepping, not taking into account the length of the dress skirt… But there weren't any.

"How is it everybody seems to magically know the steps to these things?" he wondered to himself, thinking back to the choregraphed, large-scale waltz that all the guests took part in and completed flawlessly. Even Klaus' mother, and she'd been dead for a thousand years!

"What do you mean?" Klaus asked with a slight frown.

"Well, only a bunch of us in this room—being me, you, Stefan and your crazy family—are actually old enough to have done this at some point in our lives," Damon pointed out, "And regularly," he added.

"Well, 'magical', is the operative word, Damon," Klaus responded with a small smirk.

Damon's brow furrowed. "You mean your mom's put a spell on everyone?"

"No," Klaus shook his head, "I mean, sometimes we just have to take these things at face value," he explained, waltzing the both of them around.

As they turned around, Damon caught sight of Stefan and Elena and snickered. They looked like they weren't sure whether to be betrayed, angry or downright _confused_ at the fact he was dancing with Klaus. He wasn't going to apologize—Klaus offered, and Damon was bored of standing around drinking champagne that tasted like cat-piss and eating some lame crackers.

And it felt strangely exhilarating, dancing with the devil as it were.

"Like my brother and Elena who look like their heads are about to explode at the sight of us?" he whispered in Klaus' ear, cocking his head in their direction.

He turned to look for himself, his mouth twisting into a wolfish grin as Stefan and Elena had settled for the 'eyes wide as saucers' look: "Precisely."

"You know, you're better at this than I would've thought," Klaus complimented him, almost as an afterthought.

"Not everything about me went to the dogs when I turned into a vampire," Damon smirked, "But I think this goes without saying," his tone became laced with a warning, "you try and dip me like a woman and I don't care how immortal you are, I'll kill your ass," he growled, knowing he didn't need the whole of Mystic Falls seeing him essentially being Klaus' bitch. At least with the dance they were doing, they were currently on even footing.

"Would you prefer I throw you in the air like a figure skater, then?" Klaus proposed, a strangely playful expression on his face.

Damon huffed out a laugh at the mental image. "That would get things moving around here, wouldn't it?" he sniggered, looking around at the other slow-dancers.

"Can't promise I would catch you, however," Klaus added.

Damon snorted incredulously. "You'd _let _me fall," he pointed out.

Klaus didn't make a point of saying anything, just wiggled his eyebrows.

.

.

Surprisingly, Damon found himself dancing with Klaus again. Even more surprising was that Klaus was the one to instigate it again. He had thought Klaus had only asked him to dance because Caroline looked thoroughly annoyed and disgusted when she was essentially forced to dance with him. But like the first time, he sounded sincere.

And he had been a willing, and _good_, soundboard regarding his Elena issues and what happened between them in Denver—that got a surprised look from Klaus—and the fallout of Elena's experiment.

They were in the same boat, he and Klaus, falling in love with women who had no interest in them. At least Elena had _some_ reciprocation for his feelings, but Caroline had completely snubbed Klaus at every turn and remained loyal to Tyler.

Maybe that's why they worked so well together; both outcasts; both universally hated; the second favorite; the proverbial monsters of their stories that were 'irredeemable' no matter how hard they tried.

Obviously, Damon didn't mean that in a gooey, romantic way, but perhaps in a different universe, under different circumstances, they could've been genuine friends.

"Perhaps we would have," Klaus' voice floated into his ear and rudely reminded Damon that he had said that out-loud. _Shit_.

He was incredibly grateful he couldn't blush at his slip up. "Tell anyone I said that, and I'll pull your fangs out," he threatened, although his lips were twitching in a smile.

Klaus gave him a small smile of his own. "I don't completely despise your company, you know."

Damon raised an eyebrow. "Obviously," he pointed out, indicating their tightly intertwined fingers.

They swayed in time with the music, waltzing and almost colliding with an utterly bemused Caroline and a slack-jawed Tyler.

Damon tried to hide his frown as Klaus let go of him to turn his attention to Tyler and Caroline.

"Do close your mouth, Tyler," Klaus told him, "You'll catch flies, or whatever the expression is," he added, while Tyler scowled at him.

Caroline just looked like she was trying to rationalize what she was seeing in front of her as if she was seeing a two-headed unicorn. "Since when are you two…?" she trailed off, her face wrinkling in confusion as her hand flapped around like she was trying to magic an appropriate word out of thin air.

"We're not," Damon said quickly, putting an end to Caroline's confusion before her eyes could bug out of her head.

"But you're dancing together?" she stated obviously.

"So?" Damon said with a shrug, unable to even muster the tiniest fuck to give about what Caroline had to say, "You and Klaus aren't a thing and he was dancing with you a minute ago," he pointed out.

"Because he sired away my boyfriend," Caroline argued back, shooting daggers at Klaus and he didn't even try to hide his amusement. "Like the controlling dick he is," she went on scathingly.

"Well now he's dancing with someone who _wants_ to dance with him," Damon pointed out, giving Caroline a tight smile.

She opened her mouth like she was going to say something but decided against it; holding her hands up in surrender and dragging Tyler along with her.

Damon rolled his eyes and joined up with Klaus again. He wasn't going to pretend he understood Klaus' reasoning for him wanting to dance with him or try and explode his brain to figure out why; it was just nice to be a constant thought in someone's mind for once.

"I gotta say," Damon began conversationally, "This dance of the 20's wasn't my favorite," he admitted, remembering how he would always go and sit up at the bar whenever a slow song came on at a jazz club. The faster songs were dancing until dropping became a literal thing were preferred since it made it possible for Damon to quickly feed on one woman and move onto another before she knew what bit her.

"Unfortunately, you're having to live vicariously through my sister who is determined to relive happier moments of her life," Klaus said with a slight air of disdain.

Damon snorted. "With you and your family, I don't blame her."

There was a flash of an unreadable expression on Klaus' face, but Damon pretended he hadn't noticed and carried on talking; "So, if it's all her idea, then where is she?" he wondered, trying to spot her amongst the crowd, "Caroline said she was about to tear her eyes out if she couldn't organize this her way," he added.

Klaus paused in their dance to look around for himself. "Always was a fickle one, my darling sister," he said simply, shrugging off Rebekah's lack of attendance.

"I'll just never understand the need to glamourize the golden years for a generation of teenagers too stupid to appreciate it," Damon muttered.

Klaus chuckled. "You actually sound your age for once, Damon."

"I know," Damon said with a grimace, "Next I'll be confiscating footballs thrown over my fence and telling teenagers to get off my lawn," he added with a smirk.

"Don't you already do that?" Klaus wondered.

"No, I tell them to get out of my driveway," Damon corrected, "There's a difference," he insisted.

Klaus looked unconvinced, holding back a smile. "If you say so."

Blonde hair appeared in Damon's peripheral vision and he and Klaus turned to see Caroline and Stefan standing there. Caroline looked as white as a sheet, while Stefan had his brows downturned in his typical broody frown.

"Sorry to interrupt this weird little… thing," Caroline began, forcing out the words like they left a bad taste in her mouth, "But we've got a problem," she finished, exchanging a worried glance with Stefan.

"Elena's in trouble," he said in a concerned voice.

Despite himself, Damon found his eyes rolling to the heavens. "When is she _not?_"

.

.

The next time he and Klaus danced together, Damon actually _welcomed_ it. It provided some dissonance to what was currently going on in his mind, and a helpful distraction while he processed things.

Elena had told him earlier that she had broken up with Stefan because of him and he wasn't sure whether he could believe it or not. He had never been anyone's first choice—and technically wasn't Elena's—and usually when he found some semblance of happiness there was always something that crashed in and snatched it from him.

(There was a brief pang in his chest as he thought about Rose; someone he had thought he could be genuinely happy with)

As it was, Caroline was trying her damndest to come between something that was merely a hopeful thought as of that moment. Personally, Damon couldn't care less that the thought of himself and Elena 'made her want to barf' but Elena cared about the opinions of her friends and family and often tried hard to find a decision that would placate everyone.

Not to mention her emotions were all out of whack thanks to her newfound vampirism and Stefan was still trying to convince her she needed to be 'fixed' and that would more than likely be a huge influence on her.

Damon thought it pretty rich Caroline could think those things while being accompanied to this pageant by Klaus; the man who had murdered Jenna, sacrificed Caroline's best friend and turned her boyfriend into a sired little bitch. But he decided not to intervene and let them cat-fight it out amongst themselves.

Klaus had found him not too long after the winners were announced, and they were currently dancing in a spot segregated away from all the pageantry. He had looked uncharacteristically disheartened when he had found him.

Probably Caroline trouble. She was constantly hot and cold towards him, and Damon couldn't understand his hang-up about her; for one, she had a boyfriend—at least as far as he was aware, her and Lockwood were still a thing—and for another, she was fucking annoying.

Not to mention she looked creepily like Klaus' sister…

"You could do so much better than Caroline Forbes," Damon said off-handedly.

Klaus frowned at him. "Excuse me?"

Damon shrugged. "Just my opinion."

The hybrid's eyes flashed gold in warning. "That I didn't ask for, Damon."

"But please," he went on coolly, "Continue."

Damon chuckled. "I have enough self-preservation to _not_, thanks," he pointed out, "Although I will say it's kinda creepy you have a thing for someone that looks like your sister," he finished.

Without missing a beat, Klaus responded with; "You resemble Elijah, somewhat."

Damon frowned as he let out a confused noise, stopping dead in his tracks. "Did you just—?"

"Excuse me?" a woman pitched in from behind them.

Damon was grateful for the interruption because he was sure his brain was about to explode from thinking about the implications of what Klaus just said.

They dressed to see a middle-aged woman dressed up more than the actual pageant contestants, the wrinkles around her eyes intensified by her deep-set frown.

"Can we help you, sweetheart?" Klaus asked politely in the guise of a perfect gentleman, while Damon, on the other hand, was privately wondering who the fuck shit in her cornflakes.

"Do you really think you should be doing that where there are impressionable teenagers?" she asked them in a tone that implied they were getting blackout drunk or snorting drugs off the nearby bench.

It hadn't even twigged for Damon she was referring to him and Klaus dancing, until Klaus said, still in a smooth voice, "They've seen dancing before," because it was only an innocent waltz as opposed to a half-naked rave.

"Not of the homosexual persuasion," the woman said, pursing her lips, her frown intensifying as she folded her arms.

The nerve of this woman. Damon alone was old enough to be her grandfather!

"_Homosexual persuasion?!_" he repeated with incredulous laugh, briefly glancing to Klaus and seeing the ghost of a smile. "That actually implies we're a couple," he added in a serious tone.

"Maybe in an alternate, parallel universe," he said with a shrug, "Of the parallel universe."

"So, you're dancing… by _choice?_" the woman asked slowly, as if her brain couldn't comprehend the thought and her expression changing as if she wasn't sure whether she should be confused or disgusted.

"Not that it's any of your business, but yes," Klaus admitted, his voice now slightly clipped and his gentlemanly demeanor disappearing as he folded his arms almost defensively.

"The Bible says that a man who lies with another man should be stoned," the woman pointed out, finally finding some semblance of a leg to stand on.

"Good thing we're standing," Damon quipped, "But all I will say, is that it helps _immensely_," he added, with a wiggle of his eyebrows directed towards the woman.

A noise of utter disgust slipped out of the woman's mouth and she shot the both of them a glare full of contempt, before she whirled on her heels and left.

Damon let out a relieved whistle. "_Whew_," he breathed out, "Thought I was gonna have to start going into details."

Klaus was smiling, despite his obvious bewilderment. "You certainly have a way with words, don't you?" he chuckled.

"Oh, I wasn't making it up," Damon admitted, "Just ask Kol," he said off-handedly.

"What?" Klaus asked in shock, his eyebrows almost flying off his forehead.

"Nothing," Damon said quickly, forcing a smile. "Now, where were we?" he asked, holding out a hand.

Klaus took it with a suspicious look on his face, his eyes narrowed. As they danced, Damon couldn't help but keep thinking about what Klaus had said earlier. What had he meant about him resembling Elijah?

.

.

Undoing the first few buttons of his shirt with a heavy sigh, Damon surveyed the room of dressed up teenagers. The only damn reason he was even at this stupid Prom was so he could keep an eye on no-humanity Elena and make sure she didn't decide to eat the Prom Queen.

Her words were playing on a loop in his head, as were Klaus' about him not getting a 'fairytale ending' ending. He swallowed some bourbon from his hipflask, the burning sensation combing with the swirling of his gut. He didn't know why he bothered getting his hopes up; had _everything_ between them been a result of the sire-bond?

"Aren't you on save Elena duty?" Caroline's voice crashed into his thoughts.

Damon glanced at her, noting the tired and drained look in her eyes. This whole 'emotionless Elena' was taking a toll on everyone around her and if he could do one damn thing, he'd turn back time and find some other way to help her deal with her grief over Jeremy's death.

"Taking a night off," he said simply.

He offered Caroline his hipflask, shrugging and turning away towards the refreshment table when she shook her head. For all the crappy refreshments and non-alcoholic punch, at least someone had the bright idea to put out pretzels and salted peanuts.

He took a handful, popping some into his mouth. He frowned in confusion when he heard Caroline saying,

"Now if Elena thought Damon being here was creepy, imagine what she's gonna say about you."

"Yes, because I genuinely care about the opinion of a currently emotionless, teenager who had a hand in murdering two of my brothers," came Klaus' dry, scathing voice that made Damon turn towards him with a slight frown.

He didn't look like he planned on coming here; his hair looked rough and slightly disheveled, and was just wearing a grey, long-sleeved shirt and dark jeans and boots.

"You look lovely, Caroline," he complimented with a smirk.

She gave him a small smile in response. "Thanks to you, I guess," she said.

Damon choked on his peanuts. Klaus gave Caroline her Prom…? _God,_ he hoped it was a dress that had once been Rebekah's. He did a quick double-take. No, it must have been; it didn't look to be Klaus' size.

"If you don't mind, I'd like to have a word with Damon alone," Klaus said politely, his eyes briefly wandering to him.

Damon frowned again, not entirely sure how he could've pissed Klaus off this time. He'd been trapped in the cellar while Jeremy had gone all Buffy on Kol and he hadn't even _seen_ him since that night in the cellar.

"Okay…" Caroline said with uncertainty, biting her lip and looking between the two of them almost nervously, "I'm gonna see if Stefan's free for a dance," she said as a way of parting, patting Damon on the shoulder before she walked off.

"Y'know, this is the _last_ place I would've thought to see you," Damon remarked in surprise.

Klaus shoved his hands inside his pockets with a look of aggravation. "Elijah told Rebekah she would give her the cure if she could act human for one whole night," he explained.

Although it didn't clear anything up for Damon or explain why he was standing here talking to him. "And you're here to screw it up because you want it?" he asked in confusion, wondering why in hell one of the most powerful beings in the world would want to become a pathetic human.

"I don't desire it for myself," Klaus said, a brief look of disgust flashing in his eyes, "But if Rebekah happens to have a few hiccups in the whole human façade of hers, then Elijah will have no choice but to give it to me," he added, his eyes momentarily darting to where Rebekah was talking to Matt—or more accurately, getting brushed off by him.

"So, if you don't want it," Damon began in confusion, "Why do you need it so bad?" he asked, frowning at him.

Klaus grit his teeth together. "Silas told me he won't stop tormenting me until I give him the cure," he explained, Damon swearing on his mother's grave he saw a flicker of _fear_ in Klaus' eyes, "Forgive me but since we are both immortal creatures, I do not fancy having him mess with my head for all eternity," he finished bluntly.

"What does he want it for?" Damon wondered, turning around to pick up some more peanuts, "If he's mortal the Five'll kill him," he said as he popped them into his mouth.

"If there's any of them left, anyway," he added as an afterthought. Connor was maggot food by now and there was no way Vaughn made it off the island and Damon didn't see anyone else showing up to kill the shapeshifting bastard.

"I don't know, and I don't particularly care," Klaus said airily, although his sole reason for being here was to make sure Rebekah couldn't get the cure, so Damon was dubious, "I just want him off my back, out of my head and crushed like the incessant parasite he is," he spat in annoyance.

Aspects of Klaus' behavior fit together like a jigsaw and a lightbulb went off in Damon's head, "You're scared."

"I'm an Original hybrid, Damon," Klaus pointed out, his jaw becoming set, "I don't _get_ scared," he added, narrowing his eyes.

Damon knew Klaus could rip his heart out for even _suggesting_ it, yet he found himself slipping forwards and repeating in a low voice, "You're _scared_…"

Klaus' eyes filled with black and gold and a low growl that only Damon could hear reverberated through his chest. "I'm warning you, Damon…"

"Oh, take a night off," Damon said airily, waving him off, "_Literally,_" he added, offering his arm to Klaus like he had a year ago at his mother's ball.

Klaus' eyes returned to stormy-grey and his head tilted slightly in confusion, with the beginning of a frown. "Are you asking me to dance?" he asked in pure disbelief.

Damon nodded. "We're at a Prom that's incredibly boring and nothing dramatic or life-threatening is currently happening," he pointed out, "I'm sure you can spare me five minutes before Elena does something stupid," he added, knowing he didn't really have anything to lose if Klaus shot him down, and could just ask one of the teenage girls he saw drooling over him.

"Fine," Klaus relented, taking his arm and walking with him to where everyone else was dancing.

"Everyone'll probably be too drunk to remember by the end of the night, anyway," he guessed, looking around at the groups of teenagers as they joined the horde.

As they danced, Damon noticed Klaus was looking uncharacteristically despondent and couldn't quite meet his eyes. After Mikael, Damon didn't think anything could ruffle Klaus' feathers and that he would've wolfed out and ripped Silas to shreds by now.

Sure, they were all on edge because of the kook, but if _Klaus_ was, then something definitely wasn't right.

Out of the corner of his eye, Damon spotted people stuffing paper into the Prom King and Queen ballot box and quipped, "D'you think we should put in for Prom King and Queen?"

The resulting smile and laugh from Klaus made Damon feel a strange sense of pride, and it provided a distraction from all the staring and the downright revolted, dirty look Elena was giving the both of them.

Damon smirked; he had plenty more where _that_ came from.


End file.
